Cluedo
by three-days-late
Summary: England brings out Clue because of an air raid drill during an Allies meeting. Meanwhile, Colonel Jones tries to solve a murder.


**Cluedo was first created in 1944 by a solicitor's clerk as a way to pass the time during air raid drills. The game wasn't released to the public in the form we know today until 1949. The original game concept included 10 suspects and weapons, including 'Nurse White' as opposed to 'Mrs. White.' I went with Nurse White here to distinguish between here and Mrs. Peacock, and not the other changes because I don't know how to play Clue like that.**

**Warnings for some kinda sorta almost genderbending.  
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**So yeah. Enjoy  
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* * *

><p>Colonel Jones woke up at the end of a hallway. If he recalled the layout of the mansion correctly, he was currently somewhere between the Lounge and the Dining Room. Weird, since the last thing he remembered was…what was the last thing he remembered?<p>

Miss Kirkland sitting in the Lounge with the knife at the time of the murder…

That's right, there was a murder. Mr. Boddy was now dead.

He was found in the stairwell, clearly not killed there, but no way to find which room he was killed in. Six weapons were found by the staircase with no possible way to determine which one killed the man, and no one entered or left the mansion all night, so it could only be one of the six guests. And what did the Colonel know?

That is wasn't Miss Kirkland, it wasn't the knife, and it didn't happen in the Lounge.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

><p>"You brought a game to our meeting England?" America asked as England opened the box and started setting up, "Is the world ending or something?"<p>

"Shut up! I figured we could all use a break from shouting at each other. Besides, with the air raid drill going on, we're not going to be leaving here any time soon, so why not distract ourselves with a game."

"Oh really?" France smirked, "Or did someone just need someone to play a new game with?"

"O-of course not! I have plenty of friends that I could play with instead of you wankers if that was the case."

"Yeah," America rolled his eyes, "Too bad they don't exist."

"You…"

"This game looks fun," Russia commented as he picked up the miniature lead pipe, "What kind of game is it?"

"It's a detective game," England explained. "Someone's been murdered, and you play as the suspects and wander around the game board making guesses and getting clues until you figure out the who, what, and where."

"We could use the distraction," China said, "but it looks like it's for six players, and there are only five of us here."

"Well, I could play too…" Canada offered.

"Hey! I know!" America shouted, cutting Canada off, "We could ask Canada to play too!"

"Do you know where he is?" France asked as he looked around the room, "I thought he was supposed to be here today."

"I'm right here…"

"I'm sure he's around here somewhere…" he turned around and spotted his brother seemingly for the first time all day, "Hey Canada! England's got a new game called, uh…"

"Cluedo," England offered as he snatched the lead pipe from Russia and put it back on the game board.

"Clue!"

"It's called Cluedo you prat! Don't go changing the name just because you feel like it!"

"Cluedo sounds weird. Clue sounds awesome. Anyway, you wanna play Canada."

"If you insist."

"Awesome!" America sat down at his normal side of the table in front of the yellow piece, England in front of the red, France purple, Russia white, China blue, and Canada squeezed in front of the green one. "So who goes first?"

"Well, Scarlet does, but it's really a matter of getting into the room first," England picked up the die and gave it a roll.

* * *

><p>Colonel Jones took five steps towards the Lounge and stopped suddenly, distracted by one of the paintings on the wall. A loud noise coming from the Lounge distracted him from his distraction and he hurried into the room.<p>

"What happened?" was the first thing from his lips as he took in the room.

Miss Kirkland and Mr. Williams were in the Lounge, the knife on the table between them. Upon his entrance, both of their heads turned to face him.

"There's been a murder," Miss Kirkland responded, calm as ever, "Or did your simple mind forget that already?"

"I know about that," Colonel Jones pouted in a manly way, "I was just wondering what was going on in here."

"I'm solving the murder," she turned back to Mr. Williams, "It's obvious the murder was committed right here in this Lounge, by none other than Mr. Williams, with no other weapon then that knife."

"But…it couldn't have been me…"

"Unless," Miss Kirkland ignored Mr. Williams and turned to face the Colonel, "you know something I don't?"

"As a matter of fact," _it's not the knife, it can't possibly be the knife, or the Lounge, or Miss Kirkland_, "I do."

"You're supposed to show _only_ me _only_ one card," England spat out before America could ruin anything.

"Huh?" America paused with his card in the air in preparation for the epic reveal that was about to occur.

"If you have one of the cards in my guess, you need to show it to me and only me, _not_ reveal it to everyone."

"But it's more epic my way!"

England merely gave him a look that made America roll his eyes and groan, but in the end he put one of his cards on the table and slid it across to England.

* * *

><p>"How do you know it's not the knife?" Miss Kirkland asked. Mr. Williams was wandering on the other side end of the Lounge, ignoring their conversation.<p>

Colonel Jones shrugged, "I just know. Belief or disbelief rests with you."

"Well," she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him, "If you're so smart who do you think did it?"

Colonel Jones thought it over. Being in the Lounge was useless. The murder didn't happen here, so there would be no clues to help him in this room, but the others didn't seem to know that. If they all wanted to solve this murder, then the best way to do that would be to pool their information and get to the bottom of it, but could they even be trusted?

The only people in the house were the six party guests and Mr. Boddy, well, not Mr. Boddy anymore, he supposed, but it meant that one of them had to be the murderer. Sure, he knew Miss Kirkland wasn't the culprit, but he didn't know about Mr. Williams, or even if he _could_ trust Miss Kirkland. He wanted to, oh how he wanted to, but he had only met her this night. She could very well have been working with the murderer. He couldn't trust anyone. If he wanted this murder solved, he'd have to do it himself.

So, he wouldn't tell them about the Lounge, and he'd have to make them think it was still an option somehow.

"I think it was Nurse Braginski, in the lounge, with the revolver."

* * *

><p>"Oh? You are accusing me Comrade?" Russia smiled at America, "I thought we were allies now. Why are you being paranoid?"<p>

"I-I'm not being paranoid, although I still don't trust you," America glared, "It's just part of the game! I'm not accusing you, I'm accusing Nurse White."

"I see," all eyes turned to him as he stared back innocently, "Oh? Is it my turn to show you the card?"

"If you can," England explained.

"Well, I do not have the card you requested Comrade," he folded his arms on the table and smiled back at America.

"How very like a Commie to have no way to defend himself – ow! England! No kicking!"

"Leave your politics at the door! We're doing this to try and unwind and I don't need you or _you_," he directed the last bit at Russia, "Ruining the atmosphere by bringing that shit in!"

Both of them had the decency to look guilty as they mumbled out their apologies.

"Good. Well, if Russia can't stop his suggestion, then burden of proof lies with Canada."

"Eh, me?" Canada quickly looked at his cards, "Well, I do have something…"

* * *

><p>"Damn," Colonel Jones cursed as he glared at Nurse Braginski. So it wasn't her after all. As for how Mr. Williams knew… but some mysteries didn't need to be solved, "You're lucky Mr. Williams was here or you so would have gone down."<p>

"If that's what you say, Colonel," she smiled at him, causing him to shiver, "I believe it is my turn to make silly guess about the murder yes?"

"Actually," Mr. Williams spoke up, "I was here first, so-"

"Yes Nurse," Miss Kirkland butted in, "You can make a guess if you want."

"It is so good of you to say that, because I think it was you, Miss Kirkland, here in the lounge, with the candlestick."

"W-what?" Miss Kirkland glared at her accuser, "How _dare_ you pin the blame on me-"

"Funny," Nurse Braginski's eyes narrowed, yet her smile never faded, "You seemed to have no problem when Colonel Jones was accusing me. It's making you sound a bit… suspicious."

"You're wrong," Colonel Jones shouted.

"Oh?" her attention turned to him instead, "Why are you so defensive of Miss Kirkland?"

"I-It's not," he quickly glanced back and saw her staring at him. Her cheeks went as red as his felt and they quickly turned away, "It's just, you're wrong, and I can't let you just accuse people when you're wrong. It really has nothing to do with Miss Kirkland…"

"Of course," Nurse Braginski clearly didn't believe him as she stepped forward, "But, to say that I'm wrong like that, you must have some proof yes?"

Colonel Jones grinned, "Oh, I have proof alright…"

* * *

><p>"BAM!" America slammed his card on the table, "Take that you Commie bastard."<p>

"America!" England shouted, "You're not supposed to show everyone your cards! Just the person who's asking!"

"Calm down," France waved it off, "It's obvious he had the Lounge anyway."

America looked confused, "It was?"

"Yes," China nodded, "You've been stopping everyone who's made suggestions in there. It's very noticeable."

"But," America pouted, "Whatever. Think what you want. Who's turn is it?"

"Mine," Canada spoke up, "and I want to go to the Conservatory, if that's alright."

* * *

><p>Colonel Jones whistled, "So there was a secret passage to the Conservatory in here the whole time. How'd you know about it Mr. Williams?"<p>

"I just, did," he shrugged, "Can't really explain it. Anyway, Miss Kirkland, would you like to come with me?"

She raised an eyebrow, "Why me?"

"Because I think you did it," he explained, "And I think you'll be more likely to confess if you're in the room you did it in."

"W-what?"

"Why does everyone keep accusing her?" Colonel Jones defended.

"Because it is quite obvious to everyone that she did it," Nurse Braginski put an arm on his shoulder, "Well, it is to everyone but you. Why are you so certain she didn't do it?"

"W-well…"

"Perhaps, Colonel, you are not quite thinking with your head?" she whispered in his ear.

"What are you talking about Nurse?"

"I see the way you look at her, and I must say I am jealous. It would explain why you are so sure she's innocent."

"You're being ridiculous Nurse," he practically growled. There were only three things he was positive about in this case: it wasn't the knife, it wasn't in the Lounge, and it sure as hell wasn't Miss Kirkland.

Nurse Braginski didn't respond, just kept smiling as she backed away.

"You've got a lot nerve Williams," Miss Kirkland spat out, "Accusing me, simply because I accused you."

"I have several reasons for accusing you, that just happens to be one of them," Mr. Williams held the secret passage open, "Shall we Miss Kirkland?"

Miss Kirkland scowled at him, but stepped forward to take the hand.

"Wait," Colonel Jones jumped in between them, "Miss Kirkland, you don't have to go."

"Yes, Colonel, I do," she placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled at him, "Don't worry, I'll be fine. He doesn't have any real proof, just guesswork," she squeezed his shoulder and looked down, "Thank you, for believing me, though."

"Of course I believe you," he said without a second thought, "Why wouldn't I?"

"It's, strange," her voice was barely above a whisper, for his ears only, "I don't know about you, Colonel Jones, but I can't seem to remember what I was doing at the time of the murder, can you?"

"Of course I-" he froze. No, he had no idea what he was doing while the murder was taking place. Sure, he may have seen Miss Kirkland and the knife in the Lounge at the time, but that might have been at the time he was murdering Mr. Boddy in the Hall or the Dining Hall for all he knew. He had no memory, and as a result, no alibi. Even so, he did know one thing.

"You didn't do it," he placed his hands on Miss Kirkland's shoulders, "I _know_ you didn't do it, so don't worry."

She smiled at him, "Thank you," before removing his hands and leaving down the secret passage with Mr. Williams.

Now it was just him and Nurse Braginski alone in the Lounge.

"I guess we just, wait it out?"

* * *

><p>"China," America whined, "Your turn is taking forever."<p>

"I'm thinking," he frowned, "This game requires thought if you are to play it correctly."

"Yeah, but your thinking is taking forever," he sighed, "Can you at least accuse me and get me out of the Lounge? I'm tired of being in the Lounge."

China thought it over, "Professor Plum in the Conservatory with the wrench."

America groaned and banged his head on the table.

* * *

><p>Colonel Jones wasn't sure how he had found himself in the Conservatory. One second he was glaring at Nurse Braginski in the Lounge, and the next, he was here.<p>

"So glad you could join us, Colonel," Professor Bonnefoy smiled, "See, I have an interesting theory I want to test. See, I'm positive it was you who killed Mr. Boddy, right here in the Conservatory, with the revolver."

"What? Professor, you're crazy," he chuckled, "I didn't do it. You've got the wrong man."

"Do I now?" his smile grew almost predator in nature, "You are, after all, the one most familiar with the revolver are you not?"

"What, because I'm a Colonel? You're stereotyping Professor."

"Ah, but here's the main reason: what were you doing at the time of the murder Colonel?"

Colonel Jones didn't answer, couldn't answer really. He had no idea, no alibi. He could actually have done it, most of earlier in the evening is a blur to him. His silence, however, was all the proof Professor Bonnefoy needed.

"As you can see, we have our culprit," he smiled as he lit his pipe.

"I don't know," Mr. Williams was skeptical, "I'm still sure it was Miss Kirkland."

"I agree with the Professor," Mrs. Wang nodded, "The Colonel is very suspicious."

"Because it was him. I'm sure Nurse Braginski would agree with me if she was here. Let's restrain him and call the police."

"No!" Miss Kirkland shouted, "You can't do that!"

"And why not?" Mrs. Wang raised an eyebrow, "He has no alibi and Professor Bonnefoy's theory is sound. Unless you know something we don't?"

Miss Kirkland was shaking now, staring right at Colonel Jones, and he couldn't look away from her. She nodded, gaining resolve, and said, "Yes, I know for a fact Colonel Jones is innocent."

* * *

><p>"Ah England," France sighed as he offered the card back, "Always throwing a wrench, so to speak, in my perfect plans."<p>

"Stuff it frog," he snatched the card back and picked up the die, "It's my turn now."

"But, you don't have to roll," America commented, "You were dragged into the Conservatory so-"

He smirked, "Silly boy," and rolled the die. "It's never the Conservatory."

* * *

><p>They had been wandering around the mansion for hours. Room after room, suggestion after suggestion, and he was no closer than anyone else to figuring out who did it.<p>

Colonel Jones hit his head against the wall of the Dining Room. "For the last time Nurse, it wasn't me!"

"I know," she smiled, "I just like messing with you."

Miss Kirkland rolled her eyes, "Well as much fun as being dragged all over the mansion is, we do have a murder to solve," she glanced over at the other guests in the Dining Room, "and we should probably get on that."

"Perhaps," Professor Bonnefoy said, "but it seems we are all here, oui? It's a perfect time for the conclusion to this whole mess to present itself."

"So you know who did it?" Mrs. Wang asked.

"Not a clue." Several objects, including the wrench and the rope, were tossed at his head.

Colonel Jones sat down next to Miss Kirkland at the table, who was muttering curses about the Professor under her breath. He placed a hand on her leg and smiled to calm her down, and it seemed to work, at least she stopped cursing and smiled back. It was then he noticed everyone else in the room giving them knowing looks. Blushing, he quickly retracted his hand and turned his attention to Mr. Williams.

Mr. Williams, he had been pretty quiet throughout the whole 'investigation,' only making suggestions when he had to, always ready to accuse either Miss Kirkland or him, or… anyone really. Actually, that was rather suspicious. Everything about him was rather suspicious.

He took a quick look at his notes. So far he'd only been able to figure out that the revolver was definitely the weapon, the very same revolver Mr. Williams was toying with. And wasn't he the one who came to the Dining Hall first?

Mr. Williams sighed and stood up, "I suppose it's my turn for another suggestion, very well," he cleared his throat, "Miss Kirkland-"

"No," Colonel Jones stood up, "Not today."

"Yes, we get it," Mrs. Wang sighed, "You don't think she did it, but it's not your turn now is it."

"No, not that. Although, yeah, she didn't, but, well," he shook his head and stared straight at Mr. Williams.

"I have an accusation to make."

* * *

><p>"Mr. Green, in the Dining Room, with the revolver."<p>

A "What?" from Russia, who was shooting glares at him.

A "What?" from France, who looked over his list again.

A "What" from China, who was upset he didn't get to say it first.

An "Eh?" from Canada, who still wasn't sure how he even got in the Dining Room.

And a satisfied smirk from England, who simply gave America a challenging, "If you're so sure, then check the envelope. Keep in mind, if you're wrong, you're out."

"I'm never wrong," America declared as he opened the envelope and peeked at the cards.

* * *

><p>"I would have gotten away with it too," Mr. Williams shouted as he was carried off by the police, "if it weren't for you meddling… people!"<p>

"That was, very clever of you," Miss Kirkland smiled at Colonel Jones, "Good job figuring it out."

"Yeah, well," he leaned against the wall and smiled back, "All in a day's work, you know?"

She hummed in agreement, "Just, there's one thing I want to know."

He raised his eyebrows, "What?"

"How, did you know it wasn't me? You seemed so certain-"

"Because I knew it wasn't," he smiled and leaned forward, "I remember seeing you, in the Lounge or by the Lounge with the knife at the time of the murder. Besides," he cupped her cheek, "How could it be you?"

She blushed and placed a hand over his, "I remember…you. By the Hall, in the Library, at the time of the murder," the barest touch of a smile graced her face, "I didn't think you saw me."

"I always see you," he interlaced their fingers and kissed her knuckles, "Hey, do you want to get out of here? Just the two of us?"

"I'd like that," their hands fell, still interlocked, as they left the mansion, "I just hope we'll never have to do something like this again."

* * *

><p>England had finished packing up the game. As soon as the all clear signal was heard, the others had scampered out without a look back, but that was alright. He'd gotten to test out the game, and it was, surprisingly fun. That was probably the best time he's ever had with them.<p>

"Um, England," he looked up to find that America hadn't left yet after all.

England quickly turned his fond smile into a scowl, "Are you here to brag some more about your win?"

"No, well, a little, but mostly not," America's smile lacked most of the bravado it had had since the game ended, "I was just, well, your game wasn't a complete snooze fest, so I was wondering if maybe some time when we aren't getting bombed, if you wanted to, like, play again-"

"America," England interrupted his ranting with a smile, "If you're asking me to play with you again sometime, then yes, I would like that."


End file.
